


The Pumpkin King's Job

by CatGuardian



Category: No Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27251806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatGuardian/pseuds/CatGuardian
Summary: Just a Quick Look into a Annual Job of a Job Hopper, Nothing Special.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	The Pumpkin King's Job

**Author's Note:**

> Quick Note: Any Paragraphs or Sentences in Double Parenthesis (( )) are optional so if you would like to skip be my guest. It just goes in depth about the background of the town or person and Is not needed for the story to progress.

It was around 10-11pm on October 30th when I was sitting alone in my one room apartment. I’m a job hopper you see, and I had just been fired from my 3rd job this week. Apparently, you cant set a dead rat on fire to scare some rowdy customers away. God, can’t the place lighten up a bit? I worked at an Olive Garden since it was the closest place I haven’t been fired from yet. I didn’t care about the place, workers, or rules of the job, I just wanted a place that could pay me that wouldn’t be like “didn’t you get fired already for bonking a kid in the head with a fire hydrant?” and yes, I did do that but the kid was just asking for it. Anyways, I was working my second day at the job, minding my own business, when there were some pretty annoying sounds coming from one of the tables up front. The table was a group of drunk 21-year olds flirting with every woman they saw, married or not. 

As I was about to reminisce about my latest termination, the time turned midnight as I heard the grandfather clock ring 12 times in a row....Well I *would* have heard 12 rings if I had a grandfather clock. All I had was an old analog one that could die at any moment. “well I guess its time...” I hesitantly get up from my old and ripped couch; walking towards the small closet that was somewhat hidden in the corner of the apartment, I steeled myself for the day ahead of me. 

In the closet it held all the supplies I would need for the day. As I looked towards the floor there was a black poncho I used to cover myself. It was worn and full of holes but still usable so I felt like it would be a waste to throw it out and get a new one. Underneath the poncho was a hefty but carriable duffle bag full of medical supplies and weapons. The weapons ranged from crossbows and throwing knifes to daggers and machetes for every situation I may find myself it. The medical supplies were mediocre, with bandages, Neosporin, and other items found in a basic first aid. 

After searching for a bit I found the final item I needed, my signature pumpkin mask. It was a full-on helmet with a very artificial looking orange coloring. It had scratches, indents, and marks all over it, and random stain splotches with a redder hue. Though the most interesting part of the mask was the face. It had a jagged mouth with spikes for teeth; it was crooked slightly and some of the teeth was also broken off, but that only added to the appeal. The nose was not a standard triangle nose but a human nose, with two slits to represent each nostril. The eyes were my favorite part. They were unsymmetrical so each eye told a different story. The right eye looked like it was grumpy, with invisible eyebrows pushing it down to show its anger and wrath. It was cut cleanly and professionally. The left eye, however, was an entirely different story. It looked like someone had punch a hole through it, which I adored. It was a lot bigger than the right eye and had chipped edges. There were also knife marks that showed that someone tried to cut it at first, but probably gave up and just made a hole in one swoop. 

I put the poncho over my clothes and lugged the bag over my shoulder, leaving the mask for last. I looked back at the clock to see that it was 12:18. “Hope you’re ready kids, cause the hunt begins...” I put my pumpkin mask over my face as I head out in the dead of night. The moon is flying high as I leave my apartment, door left wide open. I don’t even think of closing the door before sprinting towards a nearby forest. I leave the door open as I know I won’t be returning to that place ever again. 

I ran across the small little forest as I approached the small unsuspecting town. The same place that I grew up in but is no longer my hometown; I had long abandoned it when I had the chance. The town was a small rural one where everyone knew each other. It had grown old and dusty in the decades it lived through but still thrived enough to have people wanting to move there. Big mistake on their part; if you were not born and raised there you were shunned, outcasted by the rest just for breathing in their precious local air. 

((As I grew up, I watched as families of all variety come into the town, greet other townsfolk, and try to make a new living for themselves in this quiet hellhole. They would make it through the first 3 weeks being totally oblivious before noticing the icy glares running down their spines. Before they noticed how the others shot daggers at their backs when they were not looking, how they talked behind their backs at every chance they get, or how every child looked at them in awe before being pulled away into a tight embrace by their parent. Even as the families came to realize this fact, they ignored it to “live a better life.” They would stay for about a month, trying and failing to talk to the parents or make friends with the children, before they had enough and moved out; just for a new family to come in and start the cycle over again. It was sickening. 

Other than this town’s blatant discrimination to others, it was also “special” when it came to Halloween. Halloween was a very special and adored time for parents and children alike. They got their decorations up by the end of July and left it up until January. Christmas was an afterthought, so they just threw up a plastic Christmas tree and said, “good enough for me.” The week leading up to Halloween schools were officially off, holding carnivals and games two days right before the holiday. The actual day is this whole grand event where children and parents went trick-or-treating the entire day, starting as early as 11:30pm the previous day. During the time when the sun was high in the sky there would be carnivals and fairs and contests for every existing townsfolk. The children would play on the inflatable slides and bouncy castles while the parents would talk with one another and have a drink or two. This festival would last until the sun is barely shining and as the crowds disperse to leave the remaining people to clean up their mess. Everyone would get ready for 8 pm, the official time for trick-or-treating, and yes they had an official time for trick-or-treating because Halloween was so damn important to them. Families would be out and about for the rest of the night, visiting every house they can to get the best candies they could until they retired for the night.))

Okay, enough of the “lore” and “tradition” of the town. I stalked the town, looking for my trick-or-treating buddies this Halloween. Since it's like 12:40-ish in the morning I doubt there would be many trick-or-treaters out right now. I would be lucky to even see 4-5 groups walking. From what I could see from my position I saw 3 different groups of people all walking in separate directions. What God or Demon granted me this luck? First was a small family of 2 boys, 1 girl, and 1 toddler with the father and mother walking behind them, looking exhausted. Obviously I won’t be going for them, I have standards after all. Just looking at the parents filled me with pity, so I quickly looked to my second group of potential new friends. 

The second group was about 7-8 adults walking and talking to each other probably just coming back from a club or bar. About 4 were sober, 2 were drunk but still sober a bit, and 1 was absolutely wasted. The drunks were leaning on their buddies for support while the wasted one was getting a free piggyback ride from another. The one carrying the other was showing a faint blush on their face so I could tell they liked the other. ((Love never interested me, while everyone was worried about their relationship or trying to get their crush to notice them, I was silently making bets about them, knowing I will never experience what they felt.)) Anyways I know going for that group would be a death wish on my part. I was vastly outnumbered, and they had some strong looking people in the group. They could easily knock me out and bring me in, even if I used one of them as a hostage. 

I haven’t even looked at the final group and I already felt defeated. I glanced at the ground to stare at my old and bruised vans. Maybe the God or Demon that showed me these groups just wanted to tease me, just like the town did. They wanted to give me false hope that everything would work according to plan before it comes crashing down on my unsuspecting head. That event was the final drop of water that caused the seed of escape to grow into the now wilted flower inside of me. I would go in depth to that whole ordeal but I wouldn’t want to bore anyone. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to look at the last group I guess...” I said to myself in a hush tone. I didn’t want anyone to notice me, but it wouldn’t matter if the last group was something I couldn’t deal with. 

I hesitantly look up from my shoes to see a group of 3 teens walking in a V-shape. They looked to be 16-18 years old with heights ranging from 5’5” to around 5’8”. They had mediocre body types and looked like they didn’t do any sports, and if they did it was probably tennis or track; sports that require more speed than strength. They didn’t have any costumes on and were chatting to each other while walking down the narrow and uneven sidewalk. They were probably talking about some homework they had due or a popular new gacha game that got people hella addicted to it. Either way they were very focused on the conversation and not the environment around them, evident by one walking into an electrical pole right before the others laughed at them. They laughed for about 2 minutes before asking if the other was alright. After that funny accident they went back to their attention-grabbing conversation and blocked out the world once again... Perfect. 

I thanked whatever God or Demon that was watching over/under me and quickly stood up. I dropped my bag onto the forest floor as I quickly opened it up, revealing the assortment of weapons I had. I shifted through my bag before grabbing my most favorite weapon, my machete. I closed the bag and just stood still, staring into the machete’s blade and eyeing my reflection. Just having the machete in my hands filled me with excitement and adrenaline before I thought of my plan. 

After 5 minutes of planning, I grabbed the bag from the floor and lugged it over my shoulder. I quickly, quietly, and ominously walked towards the group as to not alarm my new trick-or-treating pals. I grew impatient at my walking speed and started to lightly jog, not caring if they heard me though I doubt they would. I hastily walked behind the group and matched my walking speed to theirs. I moved closer to the teen lagging behind the other two and closed the gap. I looked around the surrounding area to see if anyone saw me behind them, but there were no other witnesses. I raised my machete in front of me, blade pointing towards the kid, ready to make a clean cut in between their shoulder and neck. 

“Be prepared you shitshow of a town...The Pumpkin King has a job to finish.“ 

CLUNCK


End file.
